


We Have to Pay for the Love We Stole

by classicasshole



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Character Death, Exorcisms, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 03:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/classicasshole/pseuds/classicasshole
Summary: Percival worries something terrible is about to happen and that he won't be able to protect the one person who matters the most





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, I am really struggling at the moment, I have several fics that I haven't updated in ages on here, I'm just having trouble writing something that I am satisfied with. I'm not super happy with my writing at the moment. 
> 
> This is just a one shot, I tried to focus on creating an atmosphere but I think it comes off kind of over-wrought!!! Ugh!!! (Also warning my tenses are all over the place just fyi)
> 
> The title is from the song The Dark End of the Street, my favourite version of this song is from the movie The Commitments (at the youtube address below) I highly recommend anybody to watch the movie, it has fantastic music and acting
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYft3sK1n_c 
> 
> Please do let me know what you think of this good or bad (just please don't be rude)

He yearned to give him more. His boy deserved so much more. But all Graves could offer was shadows and subterfuge. For all his wealth and power, he feels impotent. Sneaking the boy in and out of seedy hotels or dragging him into back rooms of raucous speakeasies. But there was nothing for it. If he wished to retain his job, his status, his life, he had to keep Credence a secret. He considered it criminal, keeping the boy hidden away, like some shameful secret, he deserved to be out, in the sunlight. 

His thoughts always turned to the melancholic while he waited for Credence to arrive. There had been times that the boy was unable to meet him. Graves spent those nights pacing, chain-smoking, stubbornly not thinking about the possible reasons Credence might not show up. Mercifully, tonight, the boy arrives on time, sparing Graves the potential worry. 

Credence looks as enchanting as ever. Even in his shabby, ill-fitting clothes and unflattering haircut. Graves can only imagine the vision the boy would make if Graves was able to bring him to the tailors and pamper him as he so desperately craves to.

As it is, all Graves can do is pull his boy to him. Placing one hand on his lower back, pressing that lithe body to him. His other hand cups a strong jaw, fingers skimming dark hair. Forgoing customary greetings Graves presses Credence closer, desperately wishing there was some magic that could fuse them together, that would allow Graves to keep this beautiful creature by his side, protected. Stopping himself pondering such impossibilities, Graves tenderly presses his lips to his lover's jaw. It’s a fluttering, barely-there, touch and yet Credence gasps, body shaking. His responsiveness is addicting, spurring Graves to pull more debauched sounds from the boy. His hands remain firmly in place, holding his boy close, as he leaves a trail of wet kisses down that elegant, delectable neck. Feeling daring Graves nips lightly at the sensitive skin. His teeth graze the taut skin as Credence arches his neck back, giving Graves more access. It would be dangerous to leave any lasting marks so he reluctantly he pulls away.

Holding his boy at arm’s length Graves looks him over. The ever-present circles under his eyes have intensified. He has always been thin, malnourished, but now he looks gaunt, he's spread too thin. Graves knows the strain the relationship puts on Credence. Between the two of them it’s the younger man who struggles with his nature the most. In the beginning, when it was nothing more than simply carnal, Graves considered breaking it off. But he was selfish and allowed this little tryst to develop and now they are both in too deep. Neither could pull away, it's a physical impossibility, it would be like trying to break the laws of nature. The very thought is absurd, ludicrous!

Letting out a weary sigh Graves takes a step back. "I ordered room service before you arrived" indicating to the table with a nod of his head." He tries so hard to be soft with Credence, he knows how delicate the boy's sensitivities are. But no matter how hard he tries it always comes out gruff.

The ever-present knot of worry in his stomach tightens as Credence descends upon the food. He must truly be starving if he doesn't demure, even a little. Pulling out his brass pocket watch Graves rotates the crown, compulsively setting and resetting the time. A nervous tick that he is loath to reveal in front of anyone, especially Credence, who is too observant for his own good.

Credence polishes off his plate in record time, Graves curses himself for not ordering more. Sensing the older man's self-berating thoughts Credence makes his way over to where Graves is standing and delicately rests his hands on the man's chest and batting his eyelids in a flirty manner that is extremely rare for Credence. Graves can't help the affectionate smile that spreads across his face at Credence's attempt at distracting Graves from his own thoughts. 

"You little minx" he purrs, resting both hands on the swell his lover's ass, dragging him forward, pressing their crotches together, and squeezing the ample flesh harsher than usual. "Don't think I'm not wise to your tricks."

"But you do like my tricks" Credence retorts, the cheeky grin on his face is such a uncommon, yet wonderful, sight that Graves is struck dumb. For a long moment, the two men just stare at each other. Stretching out their time together, prolonging the anticipation, teasing each other and themselves in their hesitancy. 

It is Graves who breaks first, as usual. He crushes their lips together, dominating his young companion. He forces his tongue past reluctant lips, Credence playing hard to get. It's fun but never lasts long, they are too hungry for each other to play coy. Entering the wet heat of Credence's mouth Graves greedily licks at the roof of his mouth, caresses the soft flesh of his cheek, he tangles their tongues together, craving as much closeness, as much physical contact as possible. He's desperate and it shows, but his innocent lover is oblivious to his urgency and for that Graves is thankful. 

Even as he undresses his lover, peeling him out of his church clothes, Graves cannot shake a sense of foreboding. There has always been a dark cloud hanging over their meetings, but tonight is different. He cannot dispel the morbid thoughts that fill his mind, even as he reduces Credence to a whimpering mass of writhing flesh. Braced above his boy, both of them panting and sweaty, Graves has a dark premonition; Credence laid out before him, much as he is now, his eyes closed, his expression peaceful, at odds with violent markings that cover his torso and appendages. The dark wood his prostrated body rests upon throws his pale, marred skin into sharp relief. 

Graves is brought back to the hotel room, Credence's palms running up and down his neck and face, coaxing him back to reality.

"Percival? What's wrong?" Credence pants, genuine concern mixing with fear.

"Nothing my boy" it does nothing to reassure the lover beneath him.

"Percy" Credence whispers, pleading.

Rolling off and away Graves lies on his back, folding his arms behind his head and stares at the ceiling, "You don't sense it?" he asks, incredulous. This feeling of impending doom had been in the room when Graves arrived, how could Credence not feel it.

"Sense what Percy?" Credence sits up, resting on one elbow and turning to look at Graves who is determinedly staring at the ceiling.

"Nothing my boy" he reassures, meeting Credence's worried eyes, "Forget I said anything. We have such little time together I don't wish to waste it with my melancholic thoughts." He quickly presses a kiss to his lovers pouting lips, desperately trying to alleviate both their worries while, simultaneously, dreading the moment they part. They still have time.

Credence dozes fitfully, but Graves remains alert, drinking in the presence of his personal miracle. Their meeting had been serendipitous, more than that, it felt ordained, at least to Graves it did, Credence would be hesitant to utter something so blasphemous and prideful. In an attempt to avoid a colleague outside of work Graves ducked into an open doorway. He had found himself in a dilapidated, gloomy church. There was a small number of parishioners, every one of them looked wretchedly poor, obviously, they had come to this place to seek comfort from their miserable lives. 

Graves was not a religious man but no one suspected as much, he played his part well, so well in fact he almost lost himself to his character. It was as he was contemplating the pretences of his life when Graves noticed him. If he had been religious Graves would have believed the boy to be an angel, a fallen angel, sent to tempt him to sin, to damn his soul. The boy was young, very young, not yet twenty. He was delicate and slender, feline eyes, high cheek bones, yet a strong masculine jaw. Those deep brown eyes spoke of hidden depths that Graves ached to plunder. There was a meekness in the way the boy held himself, timid the way a frightened animal might be. He was enraptured, even as the boy went about his duties unaware of his newest admirer.

That had been two years ago, Graves had been shocked when he realized they had been together for so long. If Credence were female, they would have been married weeks after meeting. But that is not how their story goes. They were destined for a more brutal existence. Sneaking around in the shadows, stolen kisses, utterances of love whispered with an ever-present sense of urgency. Both men were aware of their dwindling time, but tonight was the first time it had been addressed. But Graves, ever the coward, had shied away from the topic quickly, not wanting to upset Credence and wishing to remain wilfully ignorant. Something that was getting progressively harder to do. 

All too soon morning came the sun barely rising over the horizon. In the pale dawn light Credence dressed. The mood was sombre, an invisible weight threatened to crush Graves as he watched his paramour. The fear that had been with him all night intensifies ten-fold. He grabs Credence's bony wrist, clutching the boy to his chest. Graves runs his fingers over the other's head, petting him gently, it was more soothing for Graves than for Credence. 

"Everything will be fine Mr. Graves", Credence reassures. So, he was back to being Mr. Graves now. In the light of the new day everything turns formal and distant. True intimacy is only achieved under the cover of darkness. Graves' soul aches with pain, despairs at the injustice. He lets none of this show, he must be strong for Credence who bares more of a burden than Graves. The invert orphan boy who was taken in by a hateful cult. He hugs Credence tighter as he considers his boy's strength, his goodness, his will to survive. 

"Say you will meet me at O'Donovan's tomorrow? I can book us a room, no one will disturb us, I promise."

"Of course, Mr. Graves" as if Credence would give any other response. 

Pressing a firm kiss to his boy's temple then a soft, lingering kiss to those beautiful lips, Graves leaves the room. Immaculately dressed, ready to go straight to work Graves leaves the hotel, and leaves his heart, his true self in the care of the only one he trusts.

-

He cannot concentrate on anything the whole day. His secretary, Queenie, brings him coffee but he does not relish the bitter bite as he usually would. He converses with his subordinates, Tina and Abernathy, and yet finds no joy in their verbal sparring. All his senses seem dulled, his body numb, just floating through his tasks, never truly present. He feels like a shade, wandering aimlessly in a world of grey. 

He spends the entire day in a haze. No one questions his detachment, as is only right. He leaves work late, dreading going home to an apartment that holds nothing for him. Outside his office building Graves turns and walks in the opposite direction to his apartment, he turns and walks towards home, towards Credence. 

The closer he gets to his destination the greater his sense of urgency. Without knowing what is spurring on this desperation he begins running. He must surely look like a madman, he feels mad. Some preternatural sense warning him, of what, he does not know. This feeling that has haunted him since last night will surely drive him crazy. He needs to see Credence, nothing else will assuage his fears. 

When he reaches the godforsaken church he finally pauses, the door is ajar. With an overwhelming sense of dread, he pushes it open. He is met with complete silence. This place should be condemned he thinks, the oppressive judgement of the righteous follows him as he walks up to the alter. The heavy smell of incense still lingers around the altar, when he feels a phantom presence behind him. Terrified he runs down the centre aisle, escaping that evil place.

-

He doesn't go to work the following day. He is to meet Credence tonight so he goes to O'Donovan's speakeasy when it opens at 10 in the morning and stays there all day. Sipping his whiskey until he is well and truly drunk. He stays there all night as well. Waiting for Credence to come to him. This depression that he has fallen into suddenly makes sense as the hours slowly tick by. Some part of him must have known that the inevitable was nigh. By 2am he knows Credence is gone from this world. By 4am he has confirmation. 

Two men enter the bar, shabbily dressed, they look tired but satisfied. As the liquor loosens their lips they tell their story. Hard working, men of faith, that they are, their presence had been requested at a nearby church. Many patrons at the bar listened to their story but none more intently than Percival Graves. A boy, young man really, had been causing trouble and upset for his dear mother. The devil had gotten to him apparently. His sick perversions were a threat to the other children she said, and his nightly disappearances had led to rumours of consorting with demons. The two men puffed up with pride when they spoke of what they had done. How they held the struggling boy down as the priest and his mother burned the devil out of him. How he screamed and pleaded with them. They told their captive audience how the boy called for graves, surely it had been a curse on those who were trying to help him, calling for their deaths. After hours of fighting the forces of evil the boy's soul was saved and delivered safely into the hands of the merciful, almighty god.

There was celebrating, the two men congratulated on their unwavering devotion and work for the lord. In the jovial atmosphere of the speakeasy nobody noticed the man with dark eyes and heavy brow leaving. 

There was never any record of the death of Credence Barebone. He was in death as he had been in life, ignored, overlooked, forgotten. The last official sightings of Percival Graves were from people who had seen him on Wednesday night, racing uptown, nowhere near his apartment or office. Those who got a close enough look at him, as he ran by, spoke of haunted eyes and an almost tangible feeling of hopelessness and dread that seemed to follow in his wake and that lingered for a long time after. He died how he had lived, mysterious and altogether unknown.

**Author's Note:**

> As I said above I'm in a bit of a slump at the moment. If people want to come talk to me on tumblr or even send me prompts I'm urban-caesar.tumblr.com
> 
> Thanks for reading and comments and kudos are always appreciated! :))))


End file.
